


Hebgum'CuftUrn

by butterflyslinky



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Prostitution, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky
Summary: Garak tells Julian a story about his not-so-illustrious past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Kardasi words derived from [Tinsnip and Vyc's dictionary.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NFF0fReoBJcqsqcO_LWX4BPiRiBCeTYo1SfA1c0-yXw/edit) Thanks to lady_sci_fi for beta-ing.

“So you mean to tell me you were once a museum curator?” Julian asked incredulously over the dinner table. They were in Garak’s quarters, a few weeks after their time in the Dominion prison camp, though it was the first opportunity they’d had to be alone together since then.

Garak raised an eyeridge expressively. “For about a year, yes. It was a very intriguing profession.”

Julian shook his head. “I’m beginning to think you’ve been everything except a prostitute.”

Garak’s blood went cold, but he forced himself to smile. “Who says I haven’t done that as well?” he asked, trying to keep his teasing tone.

Julian started to roll his eyes, but something in Garak’s face must have slipped. “You’re joking.” He sounded desperate suddenly, afraid. “You haven’t…”

If it had been anyone but Julian, he would have lied, said it was all a joke and of course he’d never been brought that low. But this was his Julian, the only person in the universe Garak trusted anymore, and he knew when Garak was lying.

“You get a lot of information that way,” Garak said, though his tone was heavier. “Lots of blackmail material.”

Julian stopped eating. “How long?”

“About six months,” Garak said. “It was my first assignment when I joined the Obsidian Order.”

Julian studied him carefully before he sat back. “Tell me,” he said, his voice a pleading whisper.

“You don’t think I’m lying?”

“Not about this.” Julian seemed on the verge of tears. “Never about this. Please, Garak…I want to know.”

Garak took a deep breath. “I was very young, barely past my majority. I had just finished my training…well, I thought I had…”

*

Elim stood in front of Tain, proud and trying to look as grown-up as possible.

Tain barely glanced at him across his desk. “Ah, Elim,” he said, his voice affable but somehow cold.

“You sent for me, sir?”

“Yes.” Tain stood up. “I have your first assignment.”

Elim tried not to look too eager, schooling his expression exactly as he’d been taught. “Yes?” he asked, hoping to appear interested but slightly bored.

“You will be going to the Hebgum’CuftUrn District of Cardassian City,” Tain said. “There are rumors about various State officials spending a bit too much time there. I want to know what they’re doing, who they’re seeing, what they’re saying.” He handed Elim a PADD. “You will be posing as a prostitute on the street—and yes, that means you will have to do what that entails.”

Elim blinked. “But…couldn’t I be a petty thief or a drug dealer or…something less…hands-on?”

“No,” Tain said. “Men tell those who pleasure them more than they’d ever let slip in public. You need to be close to them…draw their stories out.”

Elim nodded and took the PADD, his hands trembling a little. “Anything in particular?” he asked.

“No,” Tain said. “I want to know everything. There’s an apartment waiting—I’ve already had recording equipment planted so you won’t forget anything. Your job is to spot important people—you should know everyone of importance in the city by sight by now—and lure them back to your apartment to get every scrap of information you can.”

“And how do I persuade them to share?” Elim asked.

“Really, Elim?” Tain said in disgust. “I can see your education has been wasted. You will be a prostitute. That means you will use your body to persuade them.” At Elim’s continued confusion, Tain sighed. “Sex, Elim. You will have sex with them to make them talk.”

Elim swallowed heavily. “But…” He struggled, not wanting to betray his fear. He’d never had sex before, something Tain knew, and he had no idea how to go about it. “But what if I see someone important who doesn’t want to have sex with me?”

“Well, then you observe who he’s talking to and try to have sex with that person,” Tain said. “Or however many people down the chain until you get the information. Or you could follow that person and simply observe him.”

“Yes…yes, I will.” Elim hesitated again.

Tain smiled indulgently at him. “I know it’s new for you,” he said softly. “And you don’t know how to use it to your advantage yet.”

“No, sir,” Elim said, blushing a bit.

“Which is why I’m sending someone with you. One of my more trusted advisors. He’ll be acting as your handler, shall we say. He’ll be meeting with you once this briefing is done to train you in the finer points of physical persuasion and keeping an eye on you out there. “

Elim nodded. “I…thank you, sir.” He steeled himself again. “How long will the mission take?”

“Only six months—that’s about how long prostitutes last out there before they either die or have to move on to avoid detection from the State police.” Tain smiled again. “It should be sufficient time for you to gather all the information I need.”

Elim nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“That should be everything. You will go next door and meet your mission partner, Golar Maget. Obey him as you would me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tain looked at him and Elim swore there was a spark of warmth in his eyes. “Good luck, Elim,” Tain said softly.

“Thank you, sir.” Elim took a deep breath and left the office.

*

 Golar Maget was a man so completely ordinary that Elim would have forgotten him immediately were they not stuck together for the next six months. Not too tall, not too short, very regular ridges and a bored expression. Elim couldn’t quite guess his age—it could have been anywhere from thirty to sixty. Yet despite his unremarkable appearance, Elim felt unreasonably intimidated by him.

“Elim Garak?’ Maget said, looking him over. “Hmm…yes, I see.” He sighed. “Not much to work with, but you’ll do.” He stood up and walked around his desk, examining Elim closely. “Ever been touched by a man, Garak?”

“No, sir,” Elim said, trying to keep his voice strong.

“Women?”

“No, sir…no one.”

Maget shook his head. “Well, nothing for it.” He moved in front of Elim and sat down on top of the desk. “We can fix that easily. Sooner the better, so you can learn enough to get by out there.”

Elim didn’t move.

“Well?” Maget prompted. “Strip, boy. I need to see exactly what you can offer since I’m the one who has to sell you.”

Elim jumped and started removing his clothes, his ridges darkening in embarrassment as he did so. Maget watched, his expression never wavering. Once Elim was naked in front of him, Maget’s eyes swept over him, the same probing stare Elim was used to from Tain, only worse, so much worse because this wasn’t Tain, this wasn’t someone who loved him deep down, this was just another agent—a colleague, really. A colleague whose job it was to take his virginity and then whore him out to everyone on the street.

“Don’t be afraid,” Maget said, his voice suddenly gentle. “I’m not here to hurt you, just to teach you.”

“I know,” Elim said. “But…”

“Believe me, boy…I’m the nicest you’re going to get in this life.” He turned back to the desk and pulled out a bottle of kanar and poured it into a glass on the desk. “Here, drink this…it will help.”

Elim took the glass and downed the contents in one swallow. He did feel slightly better after, warm and a bit fuzzy. He took a deep breath and then smiled. “What do I do now?”

“Depends on who you’re with, though the sweet and innocent thing will probably work for you since you’re barely eighteen and look like you’re about twelve. For now, I suggest you get on your knees in front of me.”

Elim obeyed, feeling quite foolish as he sank down on the floor. Maget ran a hand through his hair, almost gently. “I trust you can figure out how to get my pants off?”

“I do know a bit about clothes,” Elim muttered, reaching up to undo the fastenings.

“There, see? Making jokes is good. The job isn’t just about good sex—it’s about entertaining. Gaining confidence. Being amusing will help you.”

Elim nodded as he finished with the fastenings. Maget wasn’t hard yet, though there was a bit of interest already. “Take it in your mouth,” Maget instructed. His voice was detached, though Elim didn’t expect any affection out of this anyway.

Elim obeyed. It was strange and hot and not pleasant and he wished he didn’t have to do this. But Tain had ordered it. No doubt there was equipment in this office to prove that the training was complete.

“No teeth…that’s it…a few licks…now go down. Swallow, just swallow…yes, good…”

Maget’s hand twined in Elim’s hair, pulling a bit. Elim did his best to follow the instructions, fighting to breathe around the intrusion. He felt the cock in his mouth harden as he went and he choked.

“Easy, now, easy…that’s it…keep breathing. You’re doing fine…oh, good boy…”

Elim kept going, learning to breathe, to swallow around it, to blink past the tears threatening to slip out.

With a groan, Maget pulled him off and dragged Elim to his feet. Elim was spun around and thrown facedown over the desk. He felt hands on his backside, spreading him apart, fingers probing and opening him and it hurt, but somehow, it still felt…good.

“Relax,” Maget whispered in his ear. “Others will be less kind to you. You have to learn to take whatever you’re given.”

Elim nodded and took several deep breaths. Slowly, he felt himself unclench and the fingers went deeper.

“Good,” Maget said. “It will be difficult the first few times…you’ll learn to keep yourself ready at all times. Some people won’t take their time or wait for much…after all, they pay by the hour.” He pulled his fingers out. Elim breathed in deeply before he felt a larger intrusion as Maget pushed his cock in. Elim cried out, unsure if he enjoyed it or if the pain was too much.

Maget moved fast, mechanical, thrusting hard without a trace of passion to it. Elim couldn’t fight the tears now so he let them fall down his face and onto the desk. This might have been bearable on its own, but knowing that it was only the start of six months of being used like this…

“Pay attention,” Maget commanded and Elim fought to bring his mind back to the present. “Erogenous zones are easy to find—our ridges are generally responsive, as are the chu’en. Hands or mouth will work, like so.” Maget’s hands ran over the ridges of Elim’s hips, while his mouth traced those on his shoulders. Elim shuddered, his nerve endings alight, pleasure overtaking pain. “And remember, you cannot say no to anything they ask if it won’t kill you. It will be hard…it will hurt. But you have to get through it. Understand?”

“Y-yes,” Elim gasped. “Yes, I understand…please…I want…”

“Don’t beg,” Maget said sharply, delivering a hard slap to Elim’s thigh. “Unless they tell you to, don’t beg for anything. Just make those pretty little sighs and moans, even if you’re not enjoying anything. Make them believe you’re enjoying it.” His hand slipped around and grasped Elim’s cock, which was slowly hardening. “Like this…you want to seem like it’s as arousing to you as it is to them. Train yourself to like it, no matter what they do.” He stroked it a few times. Elim whimpered and thrust into the hand. “There you go…we’ll be doing this a few times before we leave next week, and I expect you to fully embrace it, no matter what happens.”

“Yes, sir,” Elim whispered.

Maget stroked Elim’s shoulder ridges with his free hand, letting Elim relax again. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “Most of the time, you just have to lie there and listen.” The hand on Elim’s cock sped up. “This is an indulgence, by the way. Most of the men you meet won’t care about your pleasure, only their own.” He leaned forward and bit one of the ridges on Elim’s shoulder.

With a shout, Elim came, jerking and tightening, crying through his release. Maget groaned and thrust a few more times before finding his own release. Maget slumped over for a moment before abruptly standing. “Get dressed,” he commanded. “I’m done with you for today.”

Shaking, Elim stood up. He didn’t look at Maget as he pulled his clothes back on, feeling empty and vaguely disgusted. “What time should I come tomorrow?”

“First thing,” Maget said. “0800 hours. You have a lot to learn and we do need to discuss the rest of the mission.”

Elim nodded and hurried out.

*

They met every day that week and stayed together most of the time. It was just as well—they were going to be stuck together for months, they needed to be comfortable together.

Nearly half of every day was devoted to sex, teaching Elim how to react and respond to anything that he might encounter. Maget was always detached at these times, instructing Elim in a bored tone that indicated that he derived absolutely no pleasure from this, that it was just part of his job. It was easier that way. Soon enough, Elim was certain he could face any man in the bedroom and please him well.

The rest of the time was spent discussing their mission, dissecting their false identities, going over the names and faces of the men they wanted to keep an eye on.

“Your memory is good,” Maget said one night toward the end of the week. They were sitting in the office, Maget in his chair and Elim sitting on the desk with his legs on either side of his partner. “I almost wonder if we could do away from the recordings altogether.”

“I’d rather not risk it,” Elim said. “If I forgot just one detail, Tain would never let me forget as long as I lived. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Maget hummed. “I don’t think you will,” he said. “He seems inordinately fond of you.”

Elim shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t imagine why,” he lied. “I’m just another recruit.”

“Are you?” Maget asked. He studied Elim closely. “We are liars, Garak, but we’re also exposers. We have to take the lies everyone tells us and extrapolate the truth. And I know that whatever you are, you are no simple recruit. If you were just another recruit, Tain wouldn’t be sending me with you. I would train you and then you would be left alone in Hebgum, with no protection and no one to guide you. But for some reason, he doesn’t want you to die this early. He wants you to succeed.” His eyes, just as unremarkable as the rest of him, bore into Elim’s. “So I will ask once and only once—who are you, Elim Garak?”

Elim raised his eyeridge. “I’m just a nameless boy eager to please the man who’s giving him the opportunity to make something of his life.”

Maget raised an eyeridge back. “I sincerely doubt that,” he said. “But I will give you this—you’re good at being elusive. Which means that whatever your secret is, I’m probably happier not knowing.”

“That would be a safe assumption,” Elim agreed. “And what about you? Who are you, Golar Maget?”

Maget smiled. “Just like you, only older and with the benefit of hindsight.” His smile faded as quickly as it had come. “But we’re due to leave tomorrow. I suggest we start using our new names…get used to them.”

“Very well…who are you, Alon Delane?”

“A man making a living off the only thing he has left…and who are you, Kular Marin?”

“A poor boy who will obey whoever keeps him fed and warm.”

“Good.” Maget stood up. “You won’t bring anything tomorrow. Everything you need will be waiting.”

“Will we have a day to settle in, or do we start at once?”

“At once. The more time we spend with these men, the more information we can get from them.”

Elim nodded and slid off the desk. “Then I’ll say good night.” He turned to leave. “But one more question, before we go...did you request this assignment purely so you could sleep with every junior agent who came through the Order?”

“On the contrary,” Maget answered. “Tain assigned me to this post because I don’t enjoy it at all.” He gave Elim a severe look. “We can’t form attachments. Someone who enjoyed this definitely would.”

“I see…good night, Alon.”

“Good night, Kular.”

*

Garak paused. Julian was staring at him in horror and pity. “It wasn’t that bad,” Garak said.

“Tain sent you out there…knowing you’d never been with anyone, when you were barely an adult…” Julian looked aghast. “He was your father!”

“He was also my superior,” Garak said. “And I wasn’t the only one…it was a weed-out assignment; two or three of us a year went on it."

“But…you were so young…”

“I was eighteen. I was old enough to make my own choices.”

“That wasn’t a choice, Garak.”

“I chose to obey my superior. To a Cardassian, that’s the only choice that matters. It wasn’t the best assignment…or circumstances…but it was what I had to do.”

“And Maget…He just took you…he didn’t care for you at all?” Julian whispered.

“Why would he?” Garak asked. “He’d been with every agent for ten years at that point, and would be with all of the ones after me until he died or retired. Why would he care about me?”

“So you’re saying Maget’s job was just to teach you all how to…?”

“It’s a necessary skill,” Garak said. He poured Julian another glass of wine. “Not just for that particular mission, but for many other assignments…Tain was right, some people will tell you more after a night of pleasure than they will after a night of pain, but they couldn’t exactly teach us how to fuck at the academy, could they?”

Julian took a large drink of wine. “Thank goodness for small mercies,” he said. “But Maget was with you longer than he was with the others.”

“True,” Garak said. “And I suppose I did develop a certain…fondness…for him. And I like to think he felt the same for me…of course, I’ll never know now.”

Julian took another swallow of wine and refilled his glass. “How could he do that to you?” he burst out. “How could he sentence you to six months of living like that? How could he force you to go through it when he…?”

Garak refilled his own glass with kanar. “Enough, Julian,” he said. “If you’ll let me finish, I’ll explain everything.” He took a long drink.

“I’m sorry,” Julian said. “I just…I can’t imagine…his own son…”

“Every agent’s first mission was illegal, painful, or degrading. This one happened to be the harshest of them and he had his reasons for giving it to me,” Garak said. “Now let me finish.”

“Sorry,” Julian said. “Go on. Please.”

Garak took another drink and refilled his glass again. “Our work started in a small bar on the outskirts of Hebgum…”

*

Hebgum was everything and nothing like Elim expected. It was dirty, with various people of ill repute wandering up and down, ramshackle buildings lining the streets that looked like they could fall at any moment—but they wouldn’t, Elim knew, because Cardassian architecture was too well-engineered for buildings to just randomly crumble. On the street level were bars and pawn shops, holosuite shops and drug stores, dance clubs and peep shows and any number of other businesses. Under normal circumstances, Elim’s father would lock him away for days for being anywhere near this place, but now…now, his father was the one who had ordered him here.

Elim did his best to observe, to take in everything at once, from the dingy shops to the thin, ragged people. A few were better dressed—clearly clients of the people who worked here, or even some of the more successful prostitutes. Elim spotted a very beautiful woman in very revealing clothes made of fine cloth going over to a well-dressed man with the obvious intention of taking him home.

Beside him, Maget sighed. “Always forget how much I hate Hebgum until I have to be back here,” he grumbled.

“Are you here often?” Elim asked.

“Often enough,” Maget said. “But come, my dear,” he said, giving Elim a look that conveyed they were supposed to be in character and affecting a lower-class accent than Elim was used to hearing. “We need to find you a job. I’ve only got enough latinum left for a few drinks…are you going to earn your keep?”

Elim didn’t know how, but Maget had changed. Perhaps it was his clothing—not very nice, but respectable, if a bit worn-out. He gave the impression of a man down on his luck. Elim was dressed similarly, though his clothes were more ragged, strategically so, revealing skin and scales in what he hoped was an enticing pattern.

But it wasn’t just his clothing. Maget’s demeanor had changed. He was no longer the bored, distant man Elim had grown accustomed to. He seemed taller, more arrogant, his eyes giving Elim a sharp look. His mouth twisted in an insincere smile that still somehow held Elim in its power. Whatever had seemed boring about Maget before was gone—now he was a poor man, too proud to admit his downfall, too terrifying to resist.

Elim swallowed. “Y-yes…Alon.” He gave Maget a simpering look and attempted to match his accent. “I’m sorry…but when you asked me to come with you, I never thought…”

“You don’t think,” Maget snapped. “You do as I say, and I say I need a drink.” He tugged on Elim’s arm and steered him into the closest bar.

Inside it was crowded and noisy for being very early in the evening. Maget steered Elim to a table in the back. “Wait here and look pretty,” Maget instructed. “See if you can catch someone’s eye while I’m getting drinks…kanar fine?”

“Fine,” Elim said. He looked around. Most of the people in here were men, and not very clean men at that. He quickly shifted so he was sitting as Maget had taught him—long and lazy, making himself look very put-upon but oddly attractive. At least, Maget said he looked attractive like this. He had to hope it was true.

His eyes scanned the bar quickly. Most of the people inside didn’t interest him, but a few did, three Guls who stood in a corner and muttered to each other over kanar. Garak focused in his mind and managed to draw up their faces from the files he’d studied. No one terribly important, but there were rumors, both personal and professional, surrounding every one of them. Catching just one of them out would be a good start.

Elim shifted, spreading his legs just a little and putting on a seductive and pleading look. One of the three glanced his way and Elim gave him a small smile.

Maget returned with two glasses and slid one to Elim. “Here. Enjoy it, that was the last of our latinum.”

Elim sipped his drink and gave the Gul across the way another sweet smile. “Relax, Alon…I think latinum’s coming over.

Sure enough, the Gul—Gul Retrel if Elim recalled correctly—was coming over, a smirk on his face. Elim did his best to maintain a flirtatious expression.

Retrel reached the table and looked down at Elim as though he was looking at sizing up a new apartment. “Hello, there,” he said, his voice a low purr.

“Hello,” Elim said with wide eyes. Cute and innocent. His selling power was cute and innocent.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” Retrel said. “You new?”

“Yes,” Elim said. “We just arrived.” He glanced at Maget as thought seeking approval.

“You’ll forgive him,” Maget said. “It’s all so new to him.” He gave Retrel a smirk. “But for five strips an hour, you can…welcome him to the neighborhood.”

“Only five strips?” Retrel grinned at Elim. “Must be fairly green, then.”

“You’d be his first,” Maget said. “Alas that I have to sell him…I was looking forward to having him all to myself. But needs must.”

“Oh, yes,” Retrel said. “Needs must indeed.” He looked at Maget. “But you’ll forgive me…I don’t think I know you?”

“Alon Delane,” Maget said by way of introduction. “This is Kular Marin.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Retrel said. Elim noted how he didn’t offer a name. “Only five strips? For that, I’ll gladly show him a bit more of life.”

“Perfect,” Maget said. “First hour in advance and he’s yours.”

“Done.” Retrel passed a handful of strips across. “Come on, boy…I want to know what you do.”

Elim rose fluidly. “I’ll be happy to show you,” he said. “Though you’ll forgive me…it is all so new to me, especially such a fine specimen as you!” He gave Retrel a blinding smile as he was led out of the bar.

He followed Retrel around the back to a dark alley. “Don’t you want to go back to my place?” Elim offered tentatively. “I mean…it’s cleaner.”

“No,” Retrel said. “At least, not now…you looked so pretty in the bar, I have to have you now.”

“Oh, you lie,” Elim said in a flirtatious tone. “I’ve never been that pretty.”

“You are, Kular.” Retrel pushed him up against the wall and kissed him deeply. Elim kissed back, giving in to whatever this man had in mind. Information was unlikely now, but if he could impress Retrel, the Gul might come back—or better, talk him up to others.

Retrel moved back and reached down to the fastenings of his pants. “You know how to suck, boy?”

Elim nodded. “I…I’ve been told how…”

“Good.” Retrel pushed Elim to his knees. “Get to it…and if you’re good at that, I might buy more time.”

Elim took a deep breath and leaned forward. It was just like the training. Nothing new. He took Ratrel in his mouth and got to work.

*

“Not too bad,” Maget commented later that night…well, early the next morning really, as they settled into their temporary quarters. “He kept you for three hours…must like you a lot.”

“Mm,” Elim hummed. Retrel had taken him in the alley then declared that Elim was the best he’d had and asked to come back here. Once back in the apartment—dusty, bare, but livable—Retrel had kept Elim pinned to any available surface, barely letting him breathe, let alone do much more than moan. Not that Retrel minded. All he wanted was a receptacle.

Elim, however, was feeling extremely sore and worn-out from the ordeal. His only consolation was that Retrel had whispered that he’d be back—if he could keep Retrel coming back, he could gain the man’s confidence and then his secrets. Not that Retrel was particularly important, but he would know a few things that Tain would find valuable.

“Let’s hope he has friends, though,” Maget said, cutting through Elim’s thoughts. “Retrel is a Gul, yes, but not a major player—we’re going to need to attract a few people above him to get anything worthwhile.”

“As long as they aren’t all quite so desperate, I think I can manage,” Elim said. “Retrel’s single, isn’t he?”

“Obviously,” Maget said. “I think you’ll curry his favor easily…but don’t settle yet.”

“I know,” Elim said. “You told me the first one isn’t going to be the one we really want.”

“More than that, we don’t want him growing too fond of you.” Maget went to the kitchen and found a bottle of kanar. “If he starts thinking of you as his, he’ll try to buy you from me…turn you into his permanent personal plaything, and we can’t have that…if he tried, I’d be forced to kill him and that would be…unfortunate.”

“Still…” Elim accepted a glass of kanar. “If he likes me, he’ll start telling me things to impress me.”

“More importantly, he’ll recommend you to people who can tell you more.” Maget gave Elim a severe look. “Don’t lose focus, Garak. If Tain thinks you enjoyed this mission too much, he won’t give you any good assignments later.”

“I didn’t enjoy it at all,” Elim said. “I’m having muscle spasms in places where I didn’t even know I had muscles.”

“That’s even worse.” Maget smirked at him over the rim of his glass. “If you don’t enjoy it at least a little bit, you’ll end up like me. And that’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Elim grinned. “And what’s so bad about your job?” he asked. “Seems to me you’re always in the least amount of danger unless one of the recruits bites.”

“Ah, he’s found my secret!” Maget said with a laugh. “I don’t hate it at all, I’m just good at hiding it!”

They both laughed a bit and Maget gave Elim a rare, genuine smile. “You’re doing fine, Elim. I have no doubt you’ll come out of this mission successful.”

“Well, I think I’m already a success,” Elim said. “After all, you got fifteen strips of latinum out of the deal!”

Maget laughed again and Elim thought that maybe this assignment wouldn’t be so bad.

*

He learned he was wrong very quickly.

Elim and Maget slept through most of the mornings into the afternoon, pressed close together on one mattress on the floor—apparently Maget wasn’t lying when he said he normally didn’t accompany agents on this sort of assignment. But, Maget pointed out, it would also be expected for a prostitute to sleep with his seller.

They rose late in the afternoon and dressed in clothes that had been provided, worn and not entirely clean, but functional. Elim noticed that his were slightly better-made and as strategically worn as what he’d worn the day before.

They went out on the street. Elim mostly followed Maget, desperately trying to keep an eye on every person he encountered, but without success—there were just too many of them. Maget, however, seemed to know where he was going and what he was looking for.

They headed for a less populated area, slightly less dilapidated than most of Hebgum. Maget guided Elim toward a corner.

“Stand here,” he said. “If anyone you recall from your training passes, give him a friendly invite and tell him it’s five strips an hour. If anyone you don’t recall makes an offer on you, take it and finish it quickly. I’m going to go set up some appointments for later in the week.”

“All right,” Elim said. He took his post, leaning on the lamppost in what he hoped was a seductive manner, though he felt frankly ridiculous.

Maget gave him an encouraging smile and disappeared. Elim sighed and settled in to wait.

The first night saw no customers. The second night, Maget found a low-ranking clerk who was very eager to inflate his position, who whispered half-true government activities to Elim under the cover of darkness in the apartment. The third night, Retrel returned, eager to see Elim again—well, eager to see Kular. It was just as exhausting as the first night and yielded very little. On the fourth night, Elim picked up a customer of no importance, who took Elim fast and rough in an alleyway and threw down his strips of latinum before vanishing again.

The pattern continued, occasional low-ranked or unimportant customers paying Maget a few strips for the use of Elim’s body, visits from Retrel every few nights. Nothing worth noting or even reacting to. Elim spent most of his nights on his corner, listening for information and hoping he wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone.

One night, two weeks in, Elim finally spotted one of his queries, a Legate by the name of Grelurn. Elim turned and gave his best come-hither look—if he could snag this Legate, he was bound to get something out of it.

Grelurn gave him a once-over before he wandered over. “You want something, boy?” he growled.

Elim kept his smirk. “I was about to ask the same of you, sir,” he said. “You look like you could use some company.”

Grelurn sneered. “And what makes me think I want your company?”

“You seem like my type,” Elim said. “And I’m told I’m everyone’s type.”

“Except those who prefer a woman.”

“You can close your eyes and pretend. I’m cheap.” Elim leaned forward. “Besides, who’s going to know?”

Grelurn was smirking—clearly, he took the idea of arguing as foreplay seriously. Either that or Elim was about to be murdered for his impudence, but he chose to believe his first option. “You’re mouthy, boy,” Grelurn said. “Not a good quality if you want to stay alive out here.”

“My mouth has gotten me out of more trouble than it’s gotten into,” Elim said, and flinched at the line. “And I doubt a girl could give as good. They never know where to put their hands.”

“And you do, boy?”

“Always.” Elim smirked and half turned. “But I guess you’ll never find out.”

Grelurn looked like he might walk away, but then he grinned. “You are good at this,” he said. “How much?”

“Five strips an hour.”

“Got a room, boy?”

“Apartment, not too far from here…if you’re up to walking that far.”

“If you were mine, I’d punish you for that.”

“For five strips, I’m yours to do with as you please.”

“Well then.” Grelurn made a sweeping gesture. “Lead on.”

*

Grelurn was clearly clever enough not to give important information to random prostitutes, but Elim still performed his best for him. It was probably the least spectacular sex Elim had had since his training, but that was unimportant. What was important was Grelurn sitting up when it was over and smiling down at him.

“I like you, boy,” Grelurn said. “Most of the ones I find, they’re all so false…agreeing with everything, making too much noise…you like to fight. And you’re good at doing what I want.”

“Happy to please,” Elim said, sitting up as well. “I hope I can have your company again.”

“Well, don’t be too certain,” Grelurn said. “Tell the truth, this was merely a…distraction. My wife has been distant and…well, I like some company, even if it’s not very traditional.”

“I see.” Elim smiled tightly.

“Don’t be upset,” Grelurn said. “You know your place…I just needed comfort.”

“Of course. I’m still glad I could please you.”

“Yes.” Grelurn stood and began to dress. “Five strips?” he asked.

“Yes,” Elim called. “And if you’re in need of me, I’ll be here.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” With that, Grelurn left.

Elim fell back on the bed. Well, he at least had blackmail material on one Legate that he could use at any time. And if there was anything valuable in their pre-sex conversation, the recording devices would surely catch it for Tain.

Elim lay still for a few minutes before Maget returned. “There you are,” he said. “I wondered. Customer?”

“Legate Grelurn,” Elim said. “Nothing of value was said, but…”

“But it’s a good move.” Maget smiled. “You’re really doing quite well. Most of our agents have to wait a whole month to bag a Legate.”

“Yeah, but…” Elim sighed. “It just feels…easy to me. Two weeks, and I’ve already got a regular customer and a Legate under my belt? Shouldn’t it be harder than this?”

“It can be,” Maget said. “But you could just be lucky…or cute, I’ll believe either one.”

“It just feels like…it’s all been set up or something,” Elim said.

Maget gave him a look. “Don’t be silly. You’re just doing exceptionally well.” He sat down next to him. “So just keep it up and hopefully we’ll have enough for Tain when we leave.”

*

“It went on like that for almost three months.” Garak took another drink of kanar. He hadn’t realized until he started talking just how much it all was weighing on him, but he also couldn’t face it sober. “Retrel and Grelurn were my best clients…Retrel even started to tell me things…boring things, mostly, but enough.”

“Was it worth it?” Julian asked.

Garak shrugged. “Honestly, those first few months weren’t too difficult. Maget kept an eye on me…it was about the only benefit I got from being Tain’s son. He was…well, he wasn’t the worst companion I could have had in those days.”

“But all those men…all of them using you like that…”

“As I said, the first few months weren’t that bad. I was more bored than anything else—there were many nights when I didn’t have a single customer that I just spent on that street corner listening. People say all sorts of things when they don’t think anyone important can hear them.”

“So you at least got your information?” Julian asked, sounding a bit desperate.

“Well, I didn’t really know what information I was supposed to be getting…but yes, I gathered quite a bit of intelligence.” He reached for the kanar bottle but stopped. “I was starting to get comfortable…beginning to think I would come out of it perfectly, unharmed, with good information to pass on…I started to think it was easy.” He picked up the bottle and took a sip from it. “Then he came.”

“Who?” Julian grabbed the wine bottle, understanding they were beyond glasses.

“Dukat…not the one you know, but his father.”

*

The night was colder than usual, with a faint drizzle coming down. Elim shivered, hoping a customer would come by so he could go inside. While he had slowly rolled out less torn clothing over the months as their fortunes allowed, he was still inadequately dressed for the weather.

He shifted, trying to warm himself up. He looked around, but the cold weather was keeping most respectable people in their warm homes.

He’d been standing there for nearly four hours when he spotted a dark figure coming through the mist. He straightened up, putting on his best seductive expression.

The man who approached was tall, and thin, with a long neck and a face Elim would normally be glad to punch. Elim recognized him immediately, a mid-ranked military man named Dukat. Promising career, lovely family. Definitely one of the ones Elim needed.

He put on his most winning smile. “Evening,” he purred.

Dukat stopped and looked at him. “Evening.” His eyes flicked over Elim. “How much?”

“Five strips an hour,” Elim said. “And you can do anything to me if I’ll live through it.”

“Anything?” Dukat’s mouth curled into an unpleasant smile. “Got a room?”

“Yeah.” Elim shifted his hips subtly. “First hour in advance.”

“Of course.” Dukat pulled out a handful of latinum and paused. “You will be discrete?”

“Of course.” Elim batted his eyes a bit. “I don’t ask questions…but I’m a good listener, if that’s what you like.”

“What I like are whores who don’t talk too much,” Dukat snapped. “Whores who just shut up and do as I say.”

Elim bowed his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Better.” Dukat passed over five strips. “Take me there.”

As soon as the door to the apartment closed, Dukat’s hands were around Elim’s neck. Elim choked, surprised, as Dukat dragged him across the room and threw him to the ground. Elim fell hard. He heard a crack from his wrist as he landed. Dukat didn’t seem to notice. He was on Elim in a moment, tearing at his clothes. Elim lay back and closed his eyes.

A fist collided with his eye. Elim looked up, shocked and afraid. Dukat was glaring. “Sir?” Elim whispered.

“Be quiet.” A punch to the other eye. Elim cried out in pain. More hits, to the face and chest. Elim started to struggle and Dukat’s hand closed around his throat.

“I can do anything,” he growled. “If you’ll live. And right now, what I want is to beat someone. You understand…I’m a military man. I’m not happy unless I can hurt someone.”

Elim swallowed. “Please…” he gasped.

“Be quiet!” More hits, the hand on his throat tightening. “You take what you’re given…you’re being paid.”

Dukat flipped him over. Elim tried to get away, but the man above him was too heavy and the pain in his wrist was too much. He collapsed again.

“Don’t move.” Dukat was lying over him, breathing in his ear. Elim whimpered as more blows landed on his back.

Then there was pain below and Dukat pushed into him without warning. No preparation, nothing, just pain. Elim screamed, wishing he could throw him off, but he couldn’t. He just lay there, pain building with every move Dukat made.

After an age, Dukat finally shuddered and finished. Elim lay there, panting from pain.

“Your money’s on the counter,” Dukat called. Elim heard the door open and close. He didn’t move from his place on the floor, shaking and crying and no doubt bleeding.

He must have stayed there for almost an hour before the door opened and Maget came in. “Kular?” he called. “You have a…” He stopped. Elim struggled to sit up and didn’t quite manage. He heard Maget talking to someone, an answering voice, and then the door closed.

He felt Maget at his side, running a hand over him. “Elim?” he said gently.

Elim opened his eyes. “I…”

Maget’s expression was strange, like he wasn’t sure whether he should be angry or gentle yet. “What happened?”

“Dukat,” Elim said. “I met him out on the street…he paid, and he wanted…he hit me…hurt me…” Elim choked back more tears.

Maget helped Elim sit up and pulled him into his arms. “Oh, Elim,” he whispered. “I did warn you…they’re not going to treat you nicely. This is something they all go through…something we all had to face out here.”

Elim didn’t care that he was being held like a child, that he was still crying into Maget’s chest. This was more affection than he’d been given in a very long time, and Elim was suddenly grateful that Tain had been merciful enough to send someone, anyone with him.

Maget hugged Elim for several minutes before he let go. “What hurts?” he asked, his voice taking on the more detached tone from their training sessions.

“Wrist,” Elim said. “I think it’s sprained…bruises on my face and chest and back…throat hurts, he kept choking me…and…”

“And he didn’t give you much time to get ready,” Maget finished. He pulled Elim up and guided him to the mattress. “Lie down. There’s a medkit here someplace…I’ll take care of everything.”

Elim lay back, not comfortable but at least no longer broken on a hard floor. Maget moved around the apartment for a moment before he returned and started running a regenerator over him. “There,” he said a few minutes later. “All better.”

Elim sat up. He was no longer hurting, but he was still in shock. Maget sat down next to him and gently ran a hand over his back. “Did he say anything to you?”

Elim shook his head. “He wasn’t interested in talking.”

Maget hummed. “You know you might have to lure him back,” he said. “The family is prominent and the man is foolish enough to take his aggressions out on you…probably better than taking them out on his family, but he should know better.”

“I don’t want…”

“Elim…you will do whatever it takes to get the information you were sent for. It may not be glamorous…it might even hurt…but that’s what you signed up for. That’s what we do. Do you think the people above you enjoy everything they do?”

“No…”

“No, they don’t, and they’re the ones with the big assignments. You don’t get out of Hebgum by being squeamish. And it’s not like he’s going to permanently incapacitate you—I am a capable doctor when I need to be.”

“I know, but…” Elim took a deep breath. “Is it worth it?” he finally asked. “I mean…you got out of Hebgum…was all of this worth it, in the end?”

Maget sighed. “My time in Hebgum…when I was in your shoes…it remains the worst experience I’ve been through in my entire life. You’ve been lucky…and I’ve been selective in your clientele, as much as I can be. For me, every night was like tonight. Almost every customer was going to hurt me and not care. But I made it through…I took as much information as I could back to Tain. And I’m still in his employ, twenty years later, with a cushy office job that only requires me to go out when his mood changes.”

“So it is.”

Maget smiled. “If you can make it through Hebgum, you’ll make it through anything,” he said. “Now rest, Elim. I’ve already got a customer for you tomorrow…another Gul, one who always talks too much to impress people. He’s already given me the threads for a dozen government plots without realizing it, and I’m sure he’ll tell you even more. And Retrel’s due the night after, so you’ve got a bit of time before you have to seek out Dukat again.”

Elim nodded and lay down to sleep.

*

Weeks passed, and months, and it all ran together. The customers mostly blurred into one faceless, careless man, and while Elim tried hard to remember them all, he simply couldn’t, night after night spent on his back on stomach or knees, one man or another taking him.

Retrel was talking now, rather openly Elim thought, as though they were really lovers and not just whore and customer. He told Elim secrets about the machinations of government, most surely lies but there was enough truth there. Elim listened and giggled and said how great and gallant Retrel must be to know so many important things, swearing up and down none of it would leave their appointments. Retrel laughed in return, and smiled and of all the men Elim had to be with, Retrel was probably the most tolerable.

Dukat did return every few weeks. He never spoke much, but all of his sessions were brutal, if mercifully short. Elim quickly learned that if he stayed very still, it hurt less. It would all be worth it, someday, if he had a bit of blackmail material. At least, that’s what he told himself as Maget patched him up.

He and Maget didn’t talk much after that night, but Elim found that he was growing quite fond of his partner. Maget did protect him, to a point, and he was always there to help after brutal sessions—not just Dukat now, but other, less important customers had started treating Elim much worse than before. Maget didn’t ask questions, just repaired what damage he could. For the most part, they were seen together on the street when necessary, and they still slept back-to-back on the mattress, but Elim knew they had crossed a line that night and he didn’t want to approach it again.

The trouble was, Elim didn’t know how to feel about it. Maget had shown a vulnerability Elim simply wasn’t used to in anyone. It could have been a lie—it probably was a lie, no Obsidian Order agent ever told the entire truth—but Elim knew that every lie had a bit of truth to it. And it had been such a long time since anyone had shown affection for Elim in any way—not since the Academy, anyway. Elim was confused and a bit alarmed by it.

Of course, it was probably all projection. Maget was his only friend here, the only person he could drop his guard around, the only person who cared whether he lived or died. Elim knew he couldn’t get attached to anyone, he couldn’t regard anyone with affection of his own…but he was finding it difficult to stay curled beside the man night after night without anything happening.

One night, after another session with Dukat, five months into the mission, Elim turned over on the mattress to face Maget. “Golar?” he whispered, wondering if it was too much of an imposition to use his given name.

Maget turned over. “What?”

Elim hesitated, unsure of what he was really asking. “Do you…when this is over…will we see each other again?”

Maget sighed. “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said. “If you come out of this successfully, you’ll be on to bigger and better things…and I’ll go back to my office to train more agents.”

Elim looked down. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“No,” Maget said shortly. “No one does in the Order. You can’t be lonely if you don’t have anyone to miss.”

Elim sighed. “Golar…you’ve been lying next to me for months to keep up the appearance that I belong to you…don’t you want to take it? I mean…you usually have all the sex you want, but you haven’t touched me since we got here.”

Maget raised an eyeridge. “I was under the impression you were getting enough attention.”

“It’s not…” Elim hesitated. “They’re all just so…none of them care about me.”

“And I do?”

“You’re not like them.” Elim moved closer. “You care what happens to me.”

“Oh, Elim,” Maget said in exasperation. “Is that really the impression I’ve given you?”

“Well…yes. You’re doing what you can to make this mission a success…”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

Elim blinked. “What?”

“You really think Tain sent me with you to make sure you’d succeed?” Maget rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “If he wanted you to succeed, he wouldn’t have sent you here…there’s a saying at the Order. If you’re in Hebgum, you’ve already failed.”

Elim leaned up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not here to make sure you succeed. I’m here to bring your body back when you die.” He looked over at Elim. “Like I said…Tain’s fond of you. He’s not going to let you rot in the street, anyway. Most of them do.”

Elim fell back. “You mean…this was a death sentence?”

“Not exactly,” Maget said. “Some of us succeed out here…well, I did, and others have…but he’s not counting on it.”

Elim lay back, blinking back tears. “I thought…”

“Whatever you thought was probably wrong.” Maget hesitated, then rolled over and hovered above Elim. “But that doesn’t matter. You’re following orders…very well, I might add. You’ve gotten through four and a half months, which means you only have another six weeks before we go home. You’ve seduced a number of important people into telling you things…and even if you don’t make it back, the surveillance equipment will take everything you learned back to Tain. On balance, I’d say you’ve been more successful than most of the people who are given this assignment.” He leaned down and kissed Elim gently. “It’s worth something,” he whispered.

Elim glared at Maget for a moment before he pulled him down into another desperate kiss. “I don’t care that I do this every night,” he said. “I don’t care that I wasn’t meant to come back, and I don’t care about success. Right now, I want you…I know you know how to make it good, so please…indulge me again, like you did that first time…but…gentler?”

Maget nodded. “I can do that.” He kissed Elim again, on the mouth, the neck. He traced every ridge he could find, every place he had taught would make a man desperate. Elim did his best to reciprocate, pressing himself closer. Maget was gentle in his movements, almost loving in his way, though Elim knew better than to expect love. It was…simple. Kind. And when they were finished, Elim was content to curl around Maget and sleep, for once feeling like yes, this was all worth it.

*

“You mean to say you fell in love with him?” Julian asked in surprise.

“Love?” Garak repeated. “No…love had nothing to do with it. I was lonely…and afraid, and desperate. I was looking for something, anything good in my life…and he was it. I know you don’t approve, but…he wasn’t as bad as the others.”

Julian shook his head. “He didn’t actually care, though.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Garak said. “That was the whole point—he was meant to teach us how to act and nothing else. Being sent on a mission with one of us long-term was probably never in his plans…and by that point he’d learn to detach himself from almost everything. But he knew that if he pretended to care, I’d be more likely to finish the mission.”

“But if Tain expected you to die…”

“We both wanted to prove him wrong.” Garak took another drink of kanar, his hands shaking by now. “Most people didn’t come back from Hebgum…but he was a survivor, and I think he wanted someone else to survive…wanted someone else to prove to Tain that it wouldn’t always break us.”

“Break you?” Julian stared. “What do you mean, break you?”

“You heard how I lived,” Garak said. “You heard what they all did to me…you know that what little information they gave was almost entirely worthless because it was so unreliable.”

“So…what was the point?” Julian asked. “If he didn’t expect you to live, if what you got was so worthless…”

Garak sighed. “I began to wonder the same thing by the time it was over.”

*

It was over. After six months of pain and humiliation, it was finally over.

The last month had been absolute hell. After the night Elim and Maget had spent together, Maget vanished almost entirely, only reappearing when he’d found a customer. Otherwise, Elim was left on his own, to find his own customers and heal his own wounds. His customer base had dropped off quite a bit as the nights grew colder and more rainy. One week, the only person he saw was Retrel.

But the day finally came when Maget returned and told Elim they had been recalled to headquarters. Elim had gratefully followed him out of their dingy apartment back towards the center of Cardassia City, mentally going over everything he had learned on his mission.

They reported to Tain almost at once. Tain looked them over appraisingly. “Well, Elim, I see you made it out alive,” he said. “Congratulations—most don’t.”

Elim straightened a bit, proud he had gotten some form of compliment from Tain. Tain glanced at Maget. “Wait outside—I want to hear your reports separately.”

Maget nodded, once again the ordinary, forgettable, expressionless man Elim had met months before. He turned and strode out of the office, not glancing back once.

Tain looked back at Elim. “Well, then, give your briefing.”

Elim did, repeating every customer and what he had said. He ran down the list of events mechanically, trying to detach.

Once he was finished, Tain sat back. “Well,” he said. “I must admit, you were unexpectedly successful, Elim.”

“Really?” Elim asked before he could stop himself.

“Yes, really. I mean, most of the information you gave is either outdated or already known by us, but there are a few gems in there. And your list of clients isn’t terribly impressive, but one or two are worth noting. And of course, you’ve returned alive, uninjured and not too traumatized to give a briefing, which is a major accomplishment.”

Elim deflated a bit. “You’re saying my information is worthless?”

“Oh, don’t feel bad, Elim. If I really wanted information from Hebgum, I could just go down there and take up bartending. That’s not what this was for.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. This was…well, I suppose you’d call it a weed-out assignment, designed to get rid of those too weak or cowardly to serve Cardassia properly. It’s usually only given to those who…well, let’s just say we had a few doubts about you.”

“Doubts?” Elim repeated. “What doubts? What have I done to displease you?”

“I needed to know if you were truly loyal to me,” Tain said. “If you would blindly obey, no matter how…distasteful you found the task. I needed to know you were strong enough to take pain and humiliation and still come back. I needed to know if you could remember information under pressure. And, of course, I needed to know that you could do anything without forming…unfortunate attachments.” His eyes bore into Elim’s, as they’d done forever. “I suppose three out of four isn’t bad.”

“Three out of…I haven’t formed any…”

“Don’t deny it, Elim. Maget may believe he went to Hebgum to bring your body back, but that wasn’t my real design. I knew you’d grow fond of him.” He sighed. “Oh, Elim…well, I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve always been a bit too…sentimental. I only hope you can grow out of it.” He turned away. “You have a two-week rest period before your next assignment. The embassy on Romulus needs a gardener. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

Elim swallowed. “So…this was all just to test my loyalty?”

Tain looked back at him. “Hebgum is assigned to those with the weakest minds and constitutions,” he said. “Succeeding there is only the first step to being a true agent. I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself on Romulus…don’t make me regret it.”

*

Elim wandered down the halls in a daze. None of it was what he thought. His father had put him through all of that, and for what? To prove he wasn’t as weak as everyone thought?

Well, he’d show them. Once he got to Romulus, he would prove that he could be an agent…the best of them, worthy of being called Tain’s son at last.

“Elim!”

Elim turned and saw Maget walking towards him. He wasn’t hard to read this time—his eyes showed nothing but pity.

“You knew,” Elim whispered. “You knew the whole time that it was to prove I’m not weak.”

Maget nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I knew.” They started walking again, heading toward a small courtyard. “But I also know that you’ve done better than anyone expected…that’s worth something.”

“Worth what?” Elim asked. “All I’ve gotten is another chance to prove it.”

Maget was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve been training agents for ten years,” he said. “And I was in the field for ten before that. In the twenty years I’ve been in the Obsidian Order, I’ve seen nearly fifty recruits—including you and me—sent to Hebgum. Of those, a little more than a dozen came back. Most of them either died in Hebgum, or were too shaken by it to return, or ended up addicted to narcotics and stayed there to feed that addiction. Of the ones who did come back, more than half of them were too traumatized to be of any further use and were eliminated. Only a handful have ever been truly successful in that assignment…and of those, only one survived longer than a few missions after that.”

Elim blinked back tears. “So what are you saying, Golar?”

“I’m saying that you’ve already done better than ninety-nine percent of the people sent to Hebgum. It’s a mission that is designed to fail. It’s meant to get rid of those unworthy of being in the Obsidian Order. And even the ones who make don’t have long, glittering careers ahead of them.” Maget turned and looked at Elim. “Until now.”

Elim stared across the courtyard. “You really think I can still rise up?”

“I do.” Maget offered a small smile. “I don’t really know why Tain sent you to Hebgum. I don’t doubt your loyalty, or your memory, or your strength. You demonstrated all of those things to me in training. And in the last six months, I’ve learned that you, Elim Garak, are going to become a great man.”

Elim smiled back. “Thank you,” he said. He looked back at Maget. “Are you sure I won’t see you again?”

“Very sure.” Maget pressed his palm to Elim’s. “It’s been an honor to serve with you.”

“And with you,” Elim said. “Goodbye, Golar.”

“Goodbye, Elim.”

*

Garak finished speaking, staring straight ahead. “Well…you know what happened after that,” he finally said. “I went to Romulus…I was a success there. And Tain saw it. I rose up through the ranks, got to the point of being his right-hand man…the most successful agent to ever come out of Hebgum…and the least successful, as my presence here shows.”

Julian looked at him, sad and horrified. “It wasn’t even worth it,” he whispered.

“No,” Garak said. “It wasn’t.”

They were quiet for a few minutes before Julian spoke again. “Did you ever see him again?”

“Who?”

“Maget.”

“Oh…no, I didn’t.” Elim put the empty kanar bottle down, his hands trembling violently. “A few weeks after I was sent to Romulus, he was reassigned to Bajor…the official records say he died in a terrorist attack not long after.”

“The official records…?”

“I don’t think it was a coincidence that he died after Tain realized that my…feelings for him were not entirely professional.”

Julian made a disgusted noise. “He sent you on that mission with the man who took your virginity and didn’t expect you to have feelings for him after?”

“The whole point was to prove…that I was weak.” Garak turned away. Thirty years, and he still wasn’t over this. Thirty years, and it was all flooding back. “He…he wanted to prove to me…sentiment was weakness…feeling was…he needed me to see…I couldn’t…” There was no use. The tears started falling, tears for Maget, tears for Tain…tears for Elim. “I did die in Hebgum,” Garak whispered. “Elim died in Hebgum…like they all do. Whatever I am now…I’m not who I was. I could never be…” He looked back to Julian, who was crying now as well. “I suppose that’s why I like you so much…you’re like I was before that…and I knew…I could never let you be hurt that way…I never want…”

Julian moved around the table and knelt on the floor beside Garak. He held out his arms and Garak fell gratefully into them, crying as he hadn’t done since then. Julian held him close and rubbed his back, burying his nose in Garak’s hair, their mingling tears washing away the past.


End file.
